


to the riot

by Claire, wellfourthings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Inappropriate Uses of Olive Oil, Kitchen Sex, M/M, two idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellfourthings/pseuds/wellfourthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The story here is that <a href="http://wellfourthings.tumblr.com/post/83316044637">this</a> happened. Then <a href="http://moonlettuce.tumblr.com/post/83316683992/yes-ian-tell-us-of-your-many-uses-for-olive-oil">this</a> happened. Anda took this as a challenge, Claire responded in kind, most of Easter Sunday was spent playing it out via roundrobin, and this is the result.</p>
    </blockquote>





	to the riot

**Author's Note:**

> The story here is that [this](http://wellfourthings.tumblr.com/post/83316044637) happened. Then [this](http://moonlettuce.tumblr.com/post/83316683992/yes-ian-tell-us-of-your-many-uses-for-olive-oil) happened. Anda took this as a challenge, Claire responded in kind, most of Easter Sunday was spent playing it out via roundrobin, and this is the result.

JR leans against the door jamb, as he watches Ian move around the kitchen, grabbing plates and cutlery. There's still leftover pizza from last night, but Ian's determined he's going to make them something healthy, and JR has no problem with Ian feeding him. Especially when the plan is food and then straight back to bed.

Ian's underwear is still somewhere on the bedroom floor, and JR's sure the shirt Ian's wearing is actually his. (Although, not the one he came over in last night, which means either more of his stuff has migrated to Ian's place than he'd thought, or Ian's a shirt thief. Either option is equally possible.)

While JR has no objection to Ian wearing his clothes, the shirt he's wearing is one of JR's shorter ones, which means he's flashing his ass at JR every time he bends over to get something out of the fridge. And JR's hungry. Hell, it was his stomach growling that caused them to leave the bed in the first place, but Ian's ass is right there in front of him.

JR closes his eyes briefly, mentally weighing eating lunch against fucking Ian, mentally weighing whatever Ian's putting together for them against sliding into Ian's body. Of course, JR's problem is that he could pretty much put anything against fucking Ian, and fucking Ian was always going to come out on top. Fuck it, lunch can wait.

Pushing himself away from the door, he heads further into the room, reaching out to grab the bottle of olive oil sitting on the bench as he closes the distance between them. (The bottle's half empty and slightly slick, and JR's not going to make the joke about it being extra virgin, he’s not).

"Jesus, Jay--" Ian bats at JR's hands as he grabs him, laughing as JR spins him around.

JR just grins as he bends Ian over the kitchen counter. "Stay there."

It only takes seconds for JR to open the bottle, drizzling some of it over his fingers. And then JR’s fingers are sliding into Ian, the smell of olive oil around them as they slip into Ian like they belong there.

It’s like they belong there because they  _do_ belong there. It’s always been like this for them, they just fit. JR knows that Ian can’t deal with it, so he draws it out on purpose, because he’s just that little bit of a jerk that it takes to make him want to torment Ian, push him to the point where he doesn’t have the choice to stay silent anymore. 

Lunch isn’t a fraction as important as this feeling, never has been. Ian is pressing back into it, biting at his own lips and trying to keep hold of the counter with very little success. JR is just grinning, playing at it, teasing, even. Waiting for the moment when the balance shifts ever so slightly, and Ian shatters.

It’s looking like he’s going to need a little nudge, so JR tangles the fingers of his free hand in Ian’s hair and tugs just a little bit. 

It’s enough. Ian breaks and lets out a rough, throaty, - ** _please_**

JR grins as Ian begs, want and need and desire all wrapped up in a single word. He eases his grip on Ian’s hair, but doesn’t let go, as he pulls his other fingers out of Ian’s body.

Ian makes a whimper of loss as JR’s fingers slide out of him, and JR’s soothes it with a quiet  _Ssh_ — as he reaches out for the bottle of olive oil. Oil spills onto the floor as JR pours it over his cock, past caring about niceties and just needing to be inside Ian as quickly as possible.

He steadies Ian’s hip with his hand as he presses against him, waiting for the hitch in Ian’s breath before he slides inside with one push.

They both let out a groan at the smooth slide as JR bottoms out. Ian is pressing back almost at once, trying to goad him further into moving things along. This isn’t even the first time this afternoon they’ve done this, nevermind today, there’s absolutely no need to bother with waiting.

Apparently, though, JR disagrees, because he tightens his grip on Ian’s hip to hold him in place, then draws back, pulling almost all the way out and stilling for a long moment. It barely takes that long before Ian starts to fidget and try to press back against him again. He’s keening just a little before JR slams back into him all at once.

JR is just a little high on the fact that he could easily keep Ian here for ages, pleading and entirely wrecked, wrapped around JR’s cock until neither of them can take it anymore. It’s not a power thing, it’s just that Ian looks gorgeous like this, whimpering and fighting to make JR fuck him in earnest. So he draws back again just to watch it happen. 

JR holds himself still, and there’s part of him that wants to just fuck Ian, to just take everything Ian has to offer until the two of them are sticky and sated and panting for breath.

But that part of him’s overridden by the rest of him. By the desire to watch Ian’s fingers scramble for purchase on the smooth marble of the bench under him as words drop from his lips. And each  _god_ — and  _please_ — just makes JR hold on that little bit longer. Makes him hold on until Ian all but sobs out his name.

And then he’s pushing back in, a slick, harsh glide that has Ian keening loudly, gasps of breath interspersed with pleas for JR to fuck him, interspersed with  _yes_ — and  _now_ — and  _JR_ —

And  _oh_ , it’s almost too good, better than it should be, because this isn’t new for them. But every time it’s like they’ve hit a reset button and it’s all they can do to hold on tight and try to remember how to breathe in a world with  _this_ in it. 

And Ian is writhing backward into it even through JR’s grip and gasping out - _fuck_ and - _don’t stop_  and - _damn you_  and gibberish syllables that don’t mean a damned thing, in between the sort of noises that could make a grown man go mad. Every time JR stops and goes still and forces Ian to ask, to  _beg_ for it, before he’ll move again, Ian just unravels a little bit more, until he’s incoherent and almost sobbing out the words. 

It’s desperate and filthy and just a little bit shocking in how stunning it is. They’re both dripping with sweat and the olive oil and there are bite marks lining the backs of Ian’s shoulders from where JR couldn’t help himself. They could stay this way, Ian fucking back on JR’s cock like this is the only thing that matters right now, JR’s fisted fingers tangled in Ian’s hair, dragging his head back just because he can, because it’s impossible how intense this is, indefinitely.  But this time when JR loosens his hold again, Ian’s head drops to the countertop and he can’t even form words anymore at all, just presses his hips back against JR’s as much as he can, over and over.

Each of the wordless sounds coming from Ian as JR fucks him drives JR further. Untangling his fingers from Ian’s hair, JR grips his hips. He’s not holding Ian in place, Ian’s writhing too much for that, and JR knows the touch is to ground him more than Ian. His fingers are pressing into Ian, and JR knows there’ll be bruises there when they’re done, written in purple and red and each of them signed with JR’s name.

There are whimpers coming from Ian now, high and breathy and sounding like they’re being punched out of him with each thrust into his body. JR feels his balls tighten with each sound, with each noise that Ian makes. Something curls in him, low and possessive, a heat in his belly that starts to spread through him each time Ian pushes back into him.

And JR knows this can’t last, knows that they’re rapidly approaching a cliff they’re both going to spill over, but if he could stop time he would. Because it feels like nothing exists outside of this, outside of the two of them. Feels like there’s nothing beyond his body in Ian’s, both of them moving together like they were made for this.

Ian’s fingers are still sliding across the counter, and JR can’t help but reach out. Can’t help but unwrap his hand from Ian’s hip to grab at Ian’s wrist, gripping it tightly before tangling their fingers together. And Ian grips him like it’s a lifeline, grips him like he’s never going to let JR go.

Their whole dynamic is changing around them, somehow. And it shouldn’t be this altering, but is. It’s the same as the nearly overpowering grasping, claiming, urge JR feels to just growl out ‘mine'. He doesn’t, but it’s a very close thing. Instead he just thrusts harder into Ian, moves faster against him, breathing and panting just as hard Ian is now.

JR drops his head, lets it fall against Ian’s back and rest there as they move together. Ian, for his part, can only squeeze more tightly at JR’s fingers and let his head tip to one side, gasping his breaths more than he is anything else, and reaching back his other hand to trace his fingers up and down what he can reach of JR’s other arm. 

JR leans forward just the little bit more he needs to to drag his teeth across the back of one of Ian’s shoulders and then bite firmly around a tendon at the base of his neck, hard enough to leave an impression afterwards. He’s driving into Ian roughly enough now that their hands are sliding across the countertop with each thrust and the only sounds are their breathing, skin against skin, and the thump they make as they meet it every time they move. There will be so many bruises on both of them tomorrow, but right now, it’s more worth it than anything else.

Ian is making a strangled sound and meeting him with every movement, but it’s not nearly enough, for some reason, and when he arches forward and tips his head back on his shoulders, JR leans into him further and finally does just growl - ** _mine_** directly into his ear. Ian can’t help but make a high, keening, whining sound and answer - ** _yes_** in nothing but a whisper, breathless and ruined.

Ian’s response flares brightly in JR, running through him in a rhythm of  _ yesmineyes_ . He laves his tongue across the bite mark at the base of Ian’s neck, mouthing at the skin. And part of JR wants to drag this out even further, wants to see just how much he can wreck Ian, but the rest of  him burns too hot and too bright.

 

He drags their joined hands across the counter, dropping them off the slick surface and drown to Ian’s cock. Ian’s flesh is hot and warm, and a noise that’s part-groan and part-whimper spills from Ian as JR wraps their joined fingers around him.

JR jacks Ian roughly, moving their linked fingers over him and slicking precome across his skin. Ian’s pulsing under their touch, shaking and shivering in JR’s hands. Ian’s lips are moving, and JR has to lean closer to hear the litany of  _pleasepleaseplease_  falling from Ian’s mouth. And JR wants to feel it, wants to feel Ian break apart in his hands, wants to be the one to put him back together again.

Shifting his hips, JR changes the angle he’s fucking into Ian. There’s a beat, two, and then Ian arches as JR thrusts into him, broken gasps coming from him. And JR continues to move, continues to fuck into Ian as he shudders around him, because he knows Ian’s close, can sense it with every movement, with every bitten-off whimper.

Tightening their grip on Ian’s cock, JR speeds up their movements as he leans down and hips at Ian’s earlobe. And he can’t help but murmur, can’t help but tell Ian to  _give it up_ —, can’t help but need Ian to shatter apart at JR’s touch.

So JR tightens their fingers to  _just this side_  of painful as they continue striping Ian’s cock at a pace that should be impossible, seems impossible, and he wraps his other arm around Ian’s middle, pulling him back up, flush against his chest, shifting the angle as a byproduct.

And all of Ian is trembling up against him, just hovering right at the edge, half broken, nearly inaudible pleas still spilling from his lips, and he’s sporadically clenching around JR every few seconds so it’s all he can do to keep up the movements. 

It’s like he needs just that extra something to push him over the edge, and JR starts talking, spilling secrets, starts whispering devastating little phrases to him, ghosting them over his ear like promises for later.

- _fuck but you look gorgeous like this_ , and - _breaking apart around me_ , and - _unravelling on my cock like you were made for this_ ,  and - _should have just let you go on_ , and - _should have made you wreck yourself_ , and - _should have turned you around and made you watch_ , and - _god if you could see what you look like this way_ , and - _makes me want to wreck you_ , and - _ruin you entirely, permanently_ , and - _fuck wanna watch you like this forever_ , and - _just like this, begging and whimpering_   _and not even able to form words_ , and - _should have made you come just like this_ , and - _not touched you at all_ , and then - _should have made you come on my cock_.

He punctuates this last little phrase, twisting their fingers around Ian's cock, with a particularly rough thrust of his hips and a sharp bite at Ian’s earlobe and that’s all it takes, after all.

Ian does shatter, completely, and rather spectacularly. He sobs out a sound that is very nearly a scream and comes apart at the edges, pulls apart at the seams just one tiny piece at a time, collapsing back against JR more, and coming so hard his vision actually goes completely white. His fingers tighten where he’s touching JR and he just goes completely silent as JR fucks him through it. He almost takes JR down with him, just from watching it happen. It’s a close thing, but not quite.

He’s still moving back against JR throughout, anyway, pressing himself back on JR’s cock with more force, now, if only slightly.

And if Ian maybe blacks out for a moment or so… Well, that’s understandable, and no one will ever know. 

Ian all but collapses in his arms, his body rippling hot and tight around JR. Ian’s head falls back to rest on JR’s shoulder, and he’s a fucking beautiful sight. Eyes closed and face flushed and breaths coming out in little panting gasps, and every part of him hits JR in the gut with what he feels for this man.

Raising a hand, JR runs his fingers through Ian’s sweat-slick hair before he maneuvers his forward, laying him back over the counter. Ian’s still fluttering around him, perfect and tempting, and JR knows it won’t take much before he’s following Ian.

Taking both of Ian’s hands in his, he speeds up again. Ian’s still pushing back against him, soft whimpers coming from him, and each of them go straight to JR’s cock. He leans down to rest his forward on Ian’s back, and if the words coming out of him earlier were ones he never thought he’d say, then it looks like he isn’t finished.

He can’t stop talking as he fucks Ian. Words like  _gorgeous_ — and  _perfect_ — and  _ **mine**_ — spill from him with no indication of stopping. His hips stutter slightly as he tells Ian  _want to keep you forever_ — and he can feel it building in him. Can feel the ball of heat and want and need curling low in his body.

He fucks into Ian once, twice, before it bursts through him, sharp and there, as he empties himself into Ian, the  _I love you_ — a soft murmur mouthed into Ian’s skin.

 

After, when they’ve sunk down into a messy pile of limbs on the kitchen floor, it’s not awkward so much as quiet and reeling. It’s quite a while before either of them stirs, much less tries to make sense of what just happened.

Then Ian says that he isn’t going to hold JR to anything he said during, and JR looks at him like he’s lost his mind for a moment. 

He's thinking about the out, if he would even want to take it, at this point. He thinks  about everything he said, and everything he hasn't said up to this point, for obvious reasons. No one ever talks about it, but everyone knows that the things you say during sex are not things that can be taken seriously, under normal circumstances. These aren't normal circumstances, and sometimes, being in the middle of an intense moment is the catalyst you need for making those words come out at all. And this, this he meant, even if they hadn't really been  _there_ , yet.

So he calmly, quietly tells Ian that he should hold him to all of it, and that if he hadn’t meant it, hadn’t at least felt it, he wouldn’t have said it to begin with - even in the heat of all that, while he traces his fingertips in lines up and down Ian’s spine.

Ian levels his eyes on JR’s and just says that if he had wanted an out he could have it. JR musses Ian’s hair even further than it already is and calls him an idiot before he says, again, pointedly this time,  _I_.  _love_.  _you_.

And Ian doesn’t say anything, but he pulls JR forward until he can press their lips together, and traces a five letter word onto the bare skin of JR’s thigh. 

JR nods from against Ian’s shoulder, where he has taken up residence. They lean up against the counter’s base, and each other, and just breathe. No one says another word for a very long while.


End file.
